


Forever Falling

by bluest_skies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - All Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Dean finally gets to see Cas' body art, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Piercings, Rimming, Sexual Content, Smut, Tattoos, oh the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluest_skies/pseuds/bluest_skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel didn't know much about Dean Winchester at first, except that he came into the coffee shop everyday like clock work.  And eventually Castiel discovered he just might want to show Dean something he'd never shown anyone else. And it terrified him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta'd (I would really love one honestly). Any kind of feedback is SO welcome. I don't own these characters. All fuck ups are mine. I have it listed a multi-chap, but I'm not too sure how long it will end up being. I didn't figure it would even be this long. 
> 
> ETA: 11/08/13 - I found a beta after posting and as of this date, the first chapter has been reworked a bit (and content added).

Castiel Novak had worked at Singer's Salvation in Lawrence, Kansas for three months before he met Dean Winchester, the son of a long time friend of shop owner, Bobby Singer. Castiel was behind the counter, restocking to-go lids and coffee stirrers, when the bell over the door dinged.

“Can I help--”

“Uh, you're not Charlie,” the man standing there cut in, hands thrown out to the side, his face slightly alarmed.

“Wha-- uh...no. Charlie will be off for few weeks,” Castiel stammered out.

“What? Why? Where's Bobby? _Bobby_!” Customers in the store looked up from their laptops and morning newspapers and Castiel started to slightly panic.

The door marked Employees Only swung open and an older gentleman stepped through, a scowl on his face. “Is there a problem out here?” he grumbled.

“Bobby, where's Charlie?”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Oh calm down, princess. She's off workin' on some school project. She'll be back soon enough.” He clapped a hand on Castiel's back. “Castiel is more than capable of fixin' your damn cup of coffee.”

Looking from one man to the other, Castiel muttered, “I assume so...” trying to not get involved in...whatever this was.

The man just huffed. “Probably try to sell me some cappa-latte-cino crap with whip cream or something...”

Bobby adjusted his baseball cap with a sigh and pulled a large cup from the stack. “Large cup.” He slapped it down on the counter, pulled the coffee pot from the warmer, and filled the cup until the liquid was about three inches from the top. “Plain, black coffee. No cream. No sugar.” He flipped the lid on the ice freezer and grabbed a couple of cubes. “And the most important part: two to three pieces of ice so that dainty lips over here doesn't burn himself again,” he said, dropping the cubes in and snapping on a lid.

“Oh my g-- it was _one time_ , Bobby. And it was hot!”

Castiel rubbed a hand along his mouth to cover the growing smile as customers close enough to overhear chuckled in amusement.

“It's _supposed_ to be hot,” Bobby replied, then leaned over to Castiel and murmured. “He likes to act like it's rocket science, but it ain't. Here,” he said handing over the cup. “Here's your coffee, you big baby.” Bobby stomped off, pushing back through the Employees Only door. “ _And you better leave a damn tip!_ ” he yelled as the door swung shut.

Castiel stood quietly as the man pulled a wad of bills from his pants pocket. He tossed a few at Castiel and stuffed the remaining bills in the tip jar.

“Um, thank you,” Castiel said, placing the money in the register.

The man nodded. “So, Castiel huh? That's unusual. Family name?”

“Oh uh, my...family was pretty religious,” Castiel replied.

“Ah,” he said. “Wow, sorry,” the man said, shifting his cup to his left hand and holding out the right. “Dean Winchester.”

Castiel grasped Dean's hand, pleasantly warm from his coffee cup, the skin rough and calloused.

“Castiel...Novak,” he replied.

Dean shook Castiel's hand a few times and released it, stepping back. “Well, I should get on the road,” Dean said. He tipped his cup in Castiel's direction. “I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

Castiel nodded. “Have a good day, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, you too Castiel.”

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

Castiel was not prepared for the Dean Winchester inquisition that took place in the following weeks. Dean wanted to know where Castiel was from (Pontiac, Illinois), if he had any brothers or sisters (two brothers and one sister), how long he'd been living in Lawrence (3 months) and how long he'd been at the shop (almost the same amount of time). Whenever Dean asked a particularly uncomfortable question that Castiel would try and talk his way out of answering, _so why'd you move to Lawrence anyway_? he would spend the next few days asking things of no import like, _hey what did you think of that movie with Channing Tatum where they blow up the White House?_ or _what are your thoughts on Bon Jovi?_ And Castiel would have to admit that he had never seen that movie and he really had no thoughts on Bon Jovi one way or the other. “Cas,” Dean had said, his face terribly serious. “ _Everyone_ has thoughts on Bon Jovi.”

That evening, Castiel had done a little research and listening and decided that, on occasion, Bon Jovi kinda rocked. When he informed Dean the next morning, Dean slapped a palm on the counter and exclaimed, “You're damn right he does!”

Castiel learned a lot about Dean in that time as well. Dean had lived in Lawrence his whole life. His brother, Sam, also lived in town and attended The University of Kansas, majoring in law. Dean was a auto mechanic and restoration artist, specializing in classic cars and was especially proud of his 1967 Chevrolet Impala, that he inherited from his father. “I tell you Cas,” Dean had said. “Baby's never let me down. Best car I've ever had.”

Castiel also learned that Dean would sometimes be out of town for weeks or sometimes months at a time, going to classic car shows, hunting down original parts for his projects, or buying old junker cars to restore, which is why Castiel had only just now met him. As he soon discovered, when Dean was in town, he came to the shop every day at the same time and ordered the same thing. “Coffee should be pure, Cas,” Dean had said solemnly. “Not this blended down fru-fru crap.”

And as time passed, Castiel began to take note of little things about Dean. How his eyes lit up, bright green and full of excitement whenever Castiel inquired about his latest car project, small creases appearing at the corners as he exclaimed, “Dude! This car is going to be sweet when I'm finished with it. Besides Baby, probably the best project I've worked on in a while. You should come check it out sometime.”

Castiel noticed how Dean would really listen when he spoke, as if his words were the most important thing Dean would ever hear and what was once a quick interaction every morning, began to draw out longer and longer, Bobby sometimes coming up to run Dean off. “He's tryin' to work,” Bobby would tell him, scowling. “Not listen to you yammer on all morning long.”

Dean had a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks that Castiel was finding harder and harder to ignore and that fact was quickly becoming a problem. “What?” Dean had asked one day when Castiel had been staring at his face too intently. Dean brushed a hand across one cheek. “Something on my face?” The lie just fell out of Castiel's mouth. “Wh—uh, yeah...but, you got it.”

Some days it was all Castiel could do to not vault over the counter while telling Dean to just shut up and kiss him already, and he started to think that maybe...he might actually _like_ Dean Winchester a little too much.

On the same day he had come to that realization, Bobby reminded Castiel that he would be back on the closing shift next week since Charlie was back in town. A funk settled over him throughout the afternoon, knowing that after tomorrow, his interactions with Dean would cease all together. It carried on through the evening, his dinner tasteless, nothing keeping him distracted, until he finally dragged himself to bed.

Castiel awoke some time in the middle of night gasping, hands clutching at his pillow, his cock hard, the dream still fresh in his mind. Dean had been here in his apartment, lying naked on his bed, panting as his dick slid in and out of Castiel's mouth. Pushing his sweatpants down, Castiel wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, groaning at the pressure. Working his hand up and down the length, he fantasized how it would feel: Dean's shaft sliding past his lips, over his tongue, brushing against the back of his throat. Castiel pumped his hand faster as he wondered how his name would sound falling from Dean's lips as his come flooded Castiel's mouth.

“Oh god...” he grunted, spilling all over his hand and bed sheets, hips bucking forward. Castiel laid there, face pressed into his pillow, his body shuddering from the intensity of his orgasm. He kicked his sweats all the way off before rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Slightly confused and too exhausted to care about the mess he'd just made, he eventually drifted back off to sleep.

\\\\\\\/////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

“Hey you awake there, Cas?”

Castiel startled at the sound of Dean's voice and his hand slapping down on the counter.

“Shit! Uh, I-...sorry. Sorry, I was just...preoccupied,” he offered lamely.

“Deep in thought, huh? Care to share?” Dean asked with a grin.

 _Sure Dean_ , Cas thought. _I was just thinking about how last night I jerked off to the thought of sucking your cock. Sit down. Let me tell you all about it. Or perhaps demonstrate_.

“It was nothing, really. Just uh...something I read last night,” he answered, moving to fix Dean's coffee.

Accepting it with a thanks, Dean tossed a few bills on the counter. “Can't stay and chat today. I'm heading out to a car show this weekend so I gotta hit the road. I'll see you Monday though.”

“Actually,” Cas said as Dean started to walk away, “You won't. Charlie's back so I'm going back to afternoons.”

“Oh,” Dean replied, his brows furrowing. “Oh. Well...I'm sure I'll still see you around, yeah?”

Castiel nodded, though he knew that was most likely not the case. “Sure. Enjoy your trip.”

“Yeah, thanks. Later man.”

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

Sunday evening, Castiel found himself slouched on the sofa, staring curiously at his phone, which had whistled out the notice of a text message a few minutes before. Approximately four people had his phone number, three of them not being anyone he cared to speak to right now. Sliding his finger across the screen, he pulled up the messages again.

**9:08pm Hey Cas, it's Charlie. I need a huge favor.**

_9:09pm Everything ok?_

**9:11pm Yeah thanks. I just need to change my shift at the shop. Wondered if you could stay on mornings. Need to free mine up.**

_9:12pm What?_

_9:12pm Sorry. I mean, yes, of course I can._

**9:14pm Thanks Cas. You're a lifesaver.**

Castiel set his phone aside, smiling, _really_ smiling for the first time since Thursday.

That Monday, Dean walked into the shop, not looking very surprised to see Castiel behind the counter. “Fancy seeing you here,” Dean said with a smirk and stuck around for an extra forty-five minutes to regale Castiel with tales from his car show adventure. Castiel hung on every word.

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

The first time Castiel ended up in Dean's house, it was after they had gone to a football game. Earlier that day, Dean had come into the shop and Castiel had passed him his coffee as he walked up to the counter.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said. “Bobby around?” He pursed his lips to blow over the lip of the cup before taking a sip.

Everything was suddenly white noise, blood roaring in his ears, or maybe he was having a stroke, but at the moment all Castiel could focus on was Dean's mouth, lips pink and pouty as he sipped at his coffee. Had Dean said something?

“Cas, you ok?”

Castiel blinked. “Hmm? What? Oh, Bobby. He uh...I think he's in the back? Er...wait here.” He turned abruptly and disappeared through the Employees Only door, his breath ragged. Jesus. What the hell?

Collecting himself, he walked down the short hallway, gave a quick knock on the door to the small office, and poked his head in. “Bobby? Dean is asking for you.”

As it turned out, Dean had two tickets for the Kansas Jayhawks game, courtesy of Sam, and asked if Bobby wanted them.

“Sorry, son,” Bobby said. “I got a dinner date tonight. Why don't you and Cas go?”

Castiel choked, nearly dropping the pitcher of water he was pouring into the reservoir of a coffee maker.

“Kid needs to get out of the damn house now and then,” Bobby groused.

“Yeah sure. I could move some things around and go instead,” Dean said, looking at Castiel. “Up for a football game?

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////

After missing the turn off twice twice and calling Dean for help, Castiel finally pulled into the driveway of Dean's house. Set way, way, _way_ off the main road, the house was a two-story log cabin, the roof a dark green, with a wrap-around porch and full length windows in the front. Dean came down the front steps as Castiel stepped out of his car.

“Sorry,” Cas said. “I kept passing the turn off.”

Dean waved away Castiel's apology. “No biggie. It's a bitch to find, I know. ”

He twirled his keys around one finger. “Ready to take a ride in Baby?” Dean asked with a wink.

When his extreme nervousness had passed, Castiel actually started to relax and have fun. He didn't really know much about football, but Dean patiently answered all of his questions about downs and yardage and scrimmage and anything else football related.

“Have you never even watched football on _tv_?” Dean asked him, incredulous.

Cas shook his head and shrugged. “Not really, no.”

Dean stared at Castiel a moment before shaking his head, downing the rest of his beer.

Afterwards, the drive home was silent and Castiel felt painfully awkward, not knowing what to say to ease the tension. Dean was no help, oddly quiet as he stared at the road, and Castiel gave up, turning to look out the window. Mercifully, Dean soon pulled into the driveway, next to Cas's car.

“So...” Cas began. “Thanks for the invitation. And the ride.”

“Sure,” Dean replied absently. “Hey, you wanna come inside? Have a beer?”

“Uh, well...”

“Yeah. Come on, let's have one last beer,” Dean said as he exited the car, giving Cas no more time to protest.

Ushering Castiel inside, Dean flipped on the lights before closing the front door. Castiel barely had a moment to admire the inside of Dean's home when he found himself pushed up against the wall, Dean's mouth firm on his, hands clenching around Castiel's shirt. The moment Dean's tongue slipped past his lips, Castiel froze.

Dean wrenched his mouth away. “Shit,” Dean said, panting lightly. “Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--”

“No,” Cas replied, slightly breathless. “It's ok, really. I was just...surprised. I didn't expect--” he trailed off, not really knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

Dean chuckled. “Well, I'm certainly glad it's ok.” He rested his forehead against Castiel's. “At least you didn't punch me in the face.”

They stood that way for a few minutes, Dean's forehead resting against his, his arms draped around Castiel's shoulders. Castiel felt absolutely lost, so he just stood flat against the wall, enjoying the warm press of Dean's body against his, surrounded by Dean's scent.

“Hey,” Dean said, a moment later, slipping his fingers under Castiel's shirt collar to pull it away from his neck. “Is that a tattoo?”

Castiel's felt his heartbeat quicken. He shrugged Dean's hand away.

“Dean,” he gasped. “I'm sorry. I have to go.”

He could hear Dean calling after him, asking him to wait, and he wanted to more than anything. But he didn't. Castiel called in sick for the next two days and hid in his apartment the entire weekend. While he felt bad about doing so, he just couldn't face Dean yet. He ignored the calls and texts from both Dean and Charlie, which made him feel even worse. He almost expected, wished if he were being honest, that Dean would show up at his apartment, and when the weekend passed with no sign of Dean, he felt both relieved and disappointed.

On Monday morning, the bell over the door sounded, and as Castiel turned around, the greeting died on his lips. Dean. Standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. Castiel wished for wings to carry him from this place immediately. A hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. Anything.

“Cas.”

“Hello, Dean,” he gasped. Castiel couldn't look away from him, though he wanted to. Dean's green eyes were bright and locked on his. He felt pinned, those wings he wished for, clipped. Castiel's focus narrowed to Dean's face and the annoyance, the hurt, and the determination he saw there.

Dean leaned on the counter. “Look, I'd like to talk to you.”

Castiel gestured around him, fumbling for words. “I'm...It's...work,” he mumbled.

The muscle in Dean's jaw ticked. “Wait here.” And he pushed through the Employees Only door. It felt like an eternity, before Bobby came through the door.

“Why don't you go ahead and take a break, son,” he said, clapping Castiel on the shoulder.

Castiel didn't feel in control of his body as he walked to the back, feeling like he might float away at any moment or just collapse. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to hide. He found Dean sitting behind Bobby's desk, idly turning back and forth in the chair.

“Dean,” Castiel began.

“No,” Dean said abruptly, holding up one hand to point at the chair across from him. “Sit down. I'm talking.”

Castiel sank down into the chair.

“Look. I'm not really sure what I did to make you just...take off...and avoid me for almost a week,” Dean said, fixing Castiel with a pointed stare. “...but I'm done with it. Look,” he sighed heavily. “I like having you in my life. Whatever it is, it's...you don't have to explain anything. I..I enjoy our friendship, ok?"

Castiel scraped a fingernail across the desk, smiling. “I enjoy it too, Dean. I really do.” Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he apologized. “I am sorry about leaving that night...and for the rest.”

Dean waved a hand. “No worries, man.” He stood, stretching. “Alright, let's end this chick-flick moment. I gotta get to the shop. I'll talk to you later ok?”

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\

It was nice, Castiel thought, having someone to just... _be_ with. It seemed like Dean was always dragging him one place or another; football games, movies, dinner. And while Dean always kept a respectful distance, he also always seemed to find a reason to touch Cas. A hand clapping his back or shoulder. An elbow nudging him in the ribs. And as a month of this easy friendship slipped by, Cas began to crave these small touches and felt almost empty when the warmth of Dean's hand left him.

The second time he was at Dean's house, he had been invited over for a guy's night: a game on the flat screen, pizza, beers. He enjoyed meeting Dean's other friends and his brother, Sam. Castiel even got the tour of the house before everyone arrived. The kitchen was large and open with a large window that looked out onto the back deck and densely wooded backyard. The ground floor also had a small office, bathroom, and living room.

The living room was immense with floor to ceiling windows, numerous shelves that contained mechanics manuals, random books, and several family pictures. It also housed the saddest looking plaid couch that Castiel had ever seen. “Dean,” he had said. “That couch is making me extremely sad.” Dean had flashed him a weird look, told him to shut up, and dragged him upstairs to see the two guest rooms, bathroom, and Dean's master suite, which left Castiel flushed and stuttering.

After everyone else had left, Dean and Castiel sat slumped on the couch, a late night talk show on the TV, but neither of them was really paying attention, not particularly ready to part company.

“So,” Dean began, turning his head slightly to look at Cas.“Was it ok? Did you have a good time?”

Castiel glanced at Dean, nodding. “Yeah. I did.” He smiled. “Sam was pretty cool.”

Dean snorted. “Please. My brother is giant nerd. Emphasis on giant.” He paused for a moment. “And emphasis on nerd too actually.”

Castiel chuckled. “Well, he certainly is enthusiastic about his studies, but I wouldn't say that.”

“Uh yeah. Definitely a giant nerd.” He groaned as he sat up. “You want another beer or something?”

Castiel shook his head and struggled to sit up. “No, but thanks. I should be leaving pretty soon anyway.”

Dean perched on the edge of the couch, head bowed and fingers laced together. “Cas?”

Castiel looked over at him. “Yes?”

“I'd like to kiss you.”

Cas's stomach fluttered wildly and he could feel the pulse in his neck jump. “Ok.”

And then Dean was _there_. A delicious warmth pressed against his side, one hand on the side of Castiel's face, the soft press of Dean's lips to his own and Cas thought he might drown and that would be ok. It was all at once too much, but not nearly enough and he grasped onto the sides of Dean's shirt because he didn't know what else to do.

He became increasingly frustrated with the small kisses and pulled Dean closer, pushing his tongue into Dean's mouth, warm and with the lingering taste of beer. Dean let out a muffled noise of surprise and then sank deeper into the kiss. The small groans from Dean spurring him on, he pushed Dean back against the couch, and straddled his legs. He could feel Dean's erection pushing against his own through their jeans.

“God...” he gasped as his hips jerked forward, and he tugged on Dean's t-shirt. “Take it off.”

With no hesitation, Dean whipped his shirt over head and tossed it aside, pulling Castiel back to him. Dean cupped Castiel's face in his hands, kissing him so hard their teeth clicked together, his tongue slip-sliding along Castiel's so deliciously. Dean groaned, reaching up to undo the buttons on Castiel's shirt and he jerked back, sliding off Dean's lap and onto the floor.

“Fuck...Dean, I'm sorry. I...”

Dean moved to sit on the floor. “Cas, look at me,” he said, waiting until Castiel raised his head slightly. “Whatever it is you think is going to scare me off, it won't.”

Castiel shook his head. “It's not that. It's just...personal. That's all. I want to show you, I do...just...” He trailed off, not sure how to explain.

Dean placed a hand on Castiel's leg. “It's ok, Cas. You don't have to say anything. Just....don't run off.”

“I'm not. I won't.” Cas whispered. _I promise_. He huffed out a small laugh. “Did I...I just ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Dean chuckled and leaned back against the couch. “Nah. I was enjoying myself. You?”

“Very much so,” he replied, scooting across the carpet until he was kneeling beside Dean. He leaned over, his mouth hovering above Dean's. “Could we...start over?” he whispered against Dean's lips.

“Absolutely,” he whispered back, cradling the back of Castiel's head with one hand as their mouths moved together.

Castiel ran his shaking hands over Dean's chest and down his stomach, then between his legs, palming Dean's cock through his jeans. Dean's head fell back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed as a ragged “ _fuck.._.” passed his lips. Castiel popped the button on Dean's jeans, working the zipper down as Dean kicked off his shoes. Dean arched his hips as Castiel hooked his fingers in the waistband of his pants and boxers, easing them down and off his legs.

Castiel felt dizzy. He was here with Dean, who was utterly naked; the flat planes of his chest, the tightly bunched muscles of his abdomen, and his cock, thick and half-hard. Castiel swallowed past the lump in his throat, wanting this, wanting _Dean_ , more than he'd wanted anything in a long time.

He pushed Dean's legs apart and moved between them, running his hands up Dean's thighs, the muscles tensing. As he reached his hips, he wrapped one hand lightly around Dean's cock and leaned down, swirling his tongue around the head.

Dean hissed, his hands grasping at the carpet as Castiel's tongue made contact, licking sloppily around the head, his tongue teasing at the slit, his lips kissing away the precome gathered at the tip. Dean bit his lip, watching as Castiel licked up the shaft, move back to the base, then lick up to the top again. When Cas slid his mouth down the entire length of Dean's cock, he felt Dean shudder, his hips bucking slightly.

Castiel bobbed up and down on Dean's cock slowly, reveling in the smooth texture of the skin, how thick Dean was, how the head brushed against the back of his throat. He loved the feel of Dean stretching his mouth wide open. When he felt Dean place a hand on his head, his fingers tightening in Castiel's hair, he let out a small moan at the sensation.

“Fuck... _Cas_...” Dean's voice was hoarse. “...Jesus...fuck....I'm gonna...come...”

Castiel groaned as he felt Dean's cock swell before come flooded into his mouth. Castiel swallowed it down, sucking lightly on Dean's dick until he felt it soften, licking and sucking it clean. He pressed light kisses along Dean's hip and up his stomach, before shifting up to press a kiss to Dean's lips. Dean slid his tongue into Castiel's mouth, giving a satisfied grunt. He pulled Castiel into his side, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“Well,” Dean said, still slightly breathless. “That...was awesome.”

Castiel chuckled. “I'm glad you enjoyed.”

“ _Oh_ yeah,” Dean replied, pushing Castiel down until he was flat on his back. “And now it's my turn.”

\\\\\\\////\\\\\\\////

That night, Dean lay in bed and wondered what was really going on. Cas had been flat on the floor, panting, pupils eclipsing the bright blue of his eyes. He'd let Dean suck him off and he had to admit that Cas had a fantastic cock, which was accentuated by a barbell pierced though the head. _That_ had been completely unexpected, though it was an interesting sensation, sliding across his tongue and clicking lightly against his teeth.

But Cas had only pushed his pants down just enough to let Dean pull his dick out and get his mouth on it. He thought he could see tips of tattoos around Cas's hips, but he wasn't completely sure. And if there were tattoos, why was he hiding them? Did he imagine Dean would think less of him. It was strange for sure. He could probably ask Bobby or Charlie, but hell they may not even know.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn't ever recall seeing Cas in anything but long-sleeve shirts. Was he _covered_ in tattoos? The thought was surprisingly...arousing. He'd never given much thought to them before – he could take it or leave it. But the thought of Castiel, quiet and awkward, with this secret hidden underneath his clothes, that only Dean might one day know about? To trace those hidden designs with his tongue while Cas writhed beneath him?

Yeah. He was fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH FINALLY YOU SAY. I know. So here's the 2nd chapter. I hope it was worth the wait? I should just have an epilogue to come at some point (probably after the DSB September challenge is over) and this baby will be wrapped up. Huzzah!

“Winchesters.”

“ Hello Dean.”

Dean grinned as Cas' voice floated over the line. “Hey you. Thought you were gonna be back in town earlier than this?”

“ Yes, well, unfortunately my car had other plans,” Cas sighed. “I've got a flat, however my spare is also flat so...I'm stuck.”

Dean chuckled. “Of course. Where are you? I'll bring the rig, be the hero.”

“ I'm out on North 1360 Road, just outside of town,” Cas replied morosely.

“ Ok. Just sit tight. I'll be there in twenty,” Dean said as he hung up.

Grabbing the keys from his desk, Dean stopped in the garage. “Hey, Benny. I gotta take the rig out. Cas is stranded. I'll be back shortly.”

Benny looked up from the engine he was working on, wiping his hands on his coveralls. “You need a hand?”

“ Nah. Just has a flat and no spare. Thanks, though.” Dean turned to leave, anxious to get to on the road.

It was about three weeks ago that Dean was in his office, desperately trying to hunt down a grill for a '69 Dodge Charger he and Benny were restoring. He had spent the week prior playing phone tag with a guy he was told had one and was becoming extremely frustrated. They were fast approaching the deadline for this car and he had to find this damn piece. Startled by the doorbell, he was pleasantly surprised to see Cas standing on the porch as Dean looked through the peephole. Even through the distorted view, he couldn't help but grin at how adorable his boyfriend was. Cas was wearing black pants, a long-sleeve gray button up with a black vest and blood red tie. His hair was absurdly sloppy, a curl dipping down onto his forehead, and he leaned forward to squint at the door.

“ Dean?” Cas asked, voice slightly muffled by the door.

“ Yeah?”

Dean bit his lip to stifle a laugh as Cas rolled his eyes. “Are you going to open the door or just stare at me though the peephole?”

“ Hmm,” Dean said thoughtfully. “I'm not sure. I am enjoying the view.”

“ I have take-out. And beer.” Cas held up both arms.

“ Oh well in that case.” Dean opened the door and grabbed him by the tie, pulling Cas forward. He intended to place a light kiss against Cas' lips, but Dean's tongue slid past them and he groaned at the warmth of Cas' mouth. Giving his tie a tug, Dean moved them backwards, bringing Cas completely inside the foyer, their mouths continuing to move together. When Dean eventually pulled away, Cas stood there looking slightly dazed.

“ Well,” Cas breathed. “I should bring food and beer more often.”

Dean kept a hold of Cas' tie and tugged him towards the kitchen. “Come on, delivery boy. Let's eat.”

Cas just picked at his food, paying more attention to his beer than his cashew chicken until finally Dean felt like he should say something.

“ Cas, did something happen?”

Cas tipped back his beer, downing the last few swallows before getting up to grab another from the fridge. When he sat back down, he played with the cap, sliding it along the table, flipping it over and over before he finally spoke.

“ Anna called me today.”

“ Your sister?” Dean asked, confused.

Cas nodded.

Dean was slightly startled. Cas never talked about his family. Dean had started to wonder if they were even still alive. He had never pushed too much, wanting Cas to tell him in his own time. He said nothing at this, just waited for Cas to continue.

Cas took another few swallows from his beer, grimacing, his eyes glued to the table. “I haven't spoken to her in a long time. I haven't spoken to any of them. But she called me today. She--” He took a deep breath, blowing it out harshly. “She said my brother Gabriel wanted to see me.”

Dean continued to stay silent, watched Cas' hand tighten around the bottle he held. When Cas lifted his head up, his eyes were wide and glassy.

“ I...can't go see him, Dean. I just...what would I even say?”

Dean was out of his chair immediately, pulling Cas against him. Cas clutched at him tightly and Dean leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Dean didn't know all the particulars about Cas' brother being in jail. Just that he was and that Cas felt completely responsible for it. He stood there for a few minutes, letting Cas cling to him, whispering reassurances and planting kisses into his hair before he pulled back, grabbing Cas by the hand.

“ Come on.”

Dean took them upstairs to his bedroom. Once situated, he pulled Cas down onto the bed and into the nook of his arm, his head on Dean's chest. The room was mostly dark, the hallway light spilling in through the doorway. The only sounds were their quiet breathing and the white noise of the ceiling fan.

“ I've never told you about my family,” Cas eventually mumbled into Dean's chest.

“ You haven't,” Dean replied. “You will when you're ready.”

Dean laid there quietly, Cas warm against him, their legs tangled together. He had almost started to drift off to sleep when he heard Cas' muffled voice.

“ My family was actually great. Family dinners, summer vacations. Annoying little sister. Annoying older brothers.”

Dean chuckled, swatting Cas lightly on the arm. “Hey, I resemble that remark.”

Cas huffed a laugh. “Right. It was actually great though, even if I didn't think so at the time.”

Cas was quiet for a few moments, his hand rubbing across Dean's chest.

“ My dad was into investment banking, stocks. All that stuff. He was gone a lot, working. My mom...I always remember thinking that she was the most perfect person I ever knew. Loving and encouraging. She told me once, 'Life can be really scary sometimes Cassie, and you'll want to not take a chance. But sometimes you have to jump. Jump, and you will find out how to unfold your wings as you fall.' I discovered later it was a quote from Ray Bradbury, a favorite author of mine when I was a kid. And every time I was afraid to do something, she would give me that 'mom look' and say, 'Jump, Castiel.'” he laughed quietly. “She was so great. And then one day she was just...gone.”

“ I'm sorry,” Dean said, feeling like that was the lamest thing he could have said. He felt Cas pat his chest lightly in acknowledgment.

“ She wasn't sick at all. No one could really tell us what happened.” Cas turned his head up to look at Dean. “Isn't it strange that now, of all times, with so much technology and information, that someone could just...die?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

Cas looked away, pressing himself closer into Dean's side.

“ It all went to hell after that. It was as if she held us all together and without her...everything just fell apart. My older brother, Michael left for college. Anna became a ghost, avoiding everyone. My dad and I were constantly fighting, with my other brother Gabriel trying to referee. My dad and I would just... _scream_ at each other. About everything. About nothing. Eventually I just couldn't take it. In the middle of an argument one night, I punched him. The look on his face...he was shocked. I was standing there watching him flail backwards and before I knew it, I was on the floor.”

Cas didn't speak for a long moment, but when he did his voice cracked and so did Dean's heart.

"He was relentless and I remember thinking, 'this is it, this is how I'm going to die. By my father's hand'.” Cas cleared his throat. “I woke up in the hospital later. I was there for a while, I was such a mess. Lot of surgeries. Some physical therapy.”

“ Jesus Christ, Cas.” Dean was horrified. He couldn't even imagine a parent doing such a thing to their child. He felt Cas shrug.

“ I got through it. It was Gabriel though. If it hadn't been for him, I would be dead. I found out later that he walked in on it. Finally got our father to stop. And even-- even though it was self-defense, Gabriel is in jail. Because of me.”

“ He killed him,” Dean said. Castiel nodded against his chest.

“ Yes. And now his life is ruined. How could I face him, Dean?”

That's when Cas finally broke down, great heaving sobs falling out of him. Dean just held onto him, his heart breaking for this gentle soul in his arms.

It was several days and many talks later, with both Dean and Anna, that Castiel finally decided to go back to Pontiac and see his brother. Dean had offered to ride with him, for company and support, but Cas had declined and Dean respected that. But as he drove the rig out to where Cas was currently stranded, he worried.

~*~

Twenty minutes later, Dean pulled up beside Cas, who was sitting on the trunk of his car.

“ Hey there, handsome,” Dean called out the window. “Need a ride?”

Cas looked up and the smile that spread across his face made Dean's heart thump crazily.

“ Dean. You're a life saver, you know that?”

“ I do, in fact, know this,” Dean replied with a cheeky grin. “Let me turn around and I'll get you all hooked up and out of here.”

By the time Dean got Cas' car loaded on the rig, it was getting dark.

“ You gotta work tomorrow?”

“ No,” Cas said. “I'm off for another two days.”

Dean nodded. “Come home with me?”

“ Absolutely.”

 

After dropping off the rig and Cas' car at the shop, they grabbed a pizza and headed back to Dean's house in the Impala.

“ So, your trip went ok?” Dean asked as he drove them through the dark roads, streetlights casting shadows across Cas' face.

“ Yeah, actually. It was really hard, but...yeah it was good.” Dean felt Cas' hand slide across his thigh. “Thanks.”

Dean's brow furrowed. “For what?”

Cas shrugged. “Being you.”

“ Being the perfect boyfriend, you mean?”

“ Oh my god,” Cas groaned. “Shut up.”

Dean chuckled. “Seriously though, you're ok?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Cas' lips “Yeah, I am. And I'll tell you about it later. Tonight though...”

Dean wheezed as he felt Cas' hand slide higher up his thigh.

“ I just want to relax.”

~*~

“ Oh god,” Dean groaned.

Cas hummed in agreement.

“ Why did you make me eat that last piece?”

“ No one put a gun to your head, Dean.”

“ You totally did. I was in fear for my life.”

“ You're so dramatic.”

“ Ugh, I feel like such a pig.”

“ That's because you are.”

“ Shut up.”

“ Seriously,” Cas said, reaching across the empty pizza box between them to poke Dean in the side. “Oink oink”

Dean swatted at Cas' hand. “Stop it. You're gonna make me puke.”

“ Is that a curly tail I see?”

“ Can it, Pizza Pusher.” Dean said, giving him a stern face.

“ Oh fine,” Cas laughed, then patted his belly as he sighed heavily. “I really want a shower, but I don't think I can move.”

“ Me neither.”

Dean watched as Cas fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, then looked over at him. “Shower with me?”

Dean's eyebrows shot up, “Yeah?” His entire body started to tingle as Cas nodded at him. Though they'd fooled around a bit since that first time a month ago, Dean still had yet to see Cas completely undressed. An imagine of Cas, wet and naked, had Dean drawing on all his strength, heaving himself up off the couch and racing towards the stairs.

“ Move your ass, Novak!” He called out as he took the stairs two at a time.

Cas' laughter bubbled up behind him. Dean's heart soared.

~*~

 

Dean poked his head out of the bathroom. Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoes and socks already discarded. Dean had kicked off his shoes and socks on the way up, his shirt following soon after while he turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature.

“ You ready?”

Cas stood, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants as he made his way towards Dean. “Yeah.”

They stood in the bathroom facing each other, steam billowing around them. Dean scratched the back of his head.

“ Why is this so awkward right now?”

Cas grinned at him. “I have no idea.”

Dean ducked his head, laughing. “God we are idiots.” He gestured to Cas' shirt. “Can I?”

“ Please.”

Dean's hands trembled slightly as he unbuttoned Cas' shirt. When he reached the bottom, he pushed the shirt back. His first thought was  _my god he is so beautiful_ . There was an old scar, long, white and puckered on the right side, coming out from the waistband of his pants that were hanging slightly low on his hips. Dean could see the tips of tattoos on each side. He followed the scar up the side of Cas' torso, where it ended close to his ribcage. There was second small scar on his on the side of his chest, a long scar under his ribcage on the left side, and another going across his left collarbone. His second thought was  _hooooly shit_ because there were small, silver barbells through each of Cas' nipples. He fingered one tentatively, mesmerized as it slid through flesh. Cas' eyes closed, a whimper falling from his lips.

“ Well I wasn't expecting that,” Dean croaked.

“ Less talking. More naked.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Turn around.”

Cas complied and Dean reached over Cas' shoulder, grabbing the edges of his shirt, pulling it down over Cas' arms and tossed it to the floor. It started at the top of Cas' shoulders, enormous wings that spanned the entire length of his back, the tips of feathers curving around his hips, some disappearing beneath his pants. They went down the back of his arms as well, ending at the elbows. Dean ran a hand down Cas' back, the texture of his skin rough. Cas shuddered.

“ My back is scarred, though the tattoo covers most of them,” Cas said over his shoulder.

“ It's beautiful,” Dean said, placing a kiss between Cas' shoulder blades before turning him back around. He placed a hand on either side of Cas' face. “You're beautiful,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to Cas' mouth. Dean couldn't believe this person in front of him was real. And his. That he was so lucky as to have someone like Cas come into his life.

Then Cas slid his tongue into Dean's mouth and his brain short-circuited. He moved his hands to work at the button and zipper of Cas' pants, breaking the kiss long enough to push them down so Cas could kick them off. Dean choked. Both of Cas' legs were covered in ink, one bright and colorful, the other black and grey, from his ankles to the top of his thighs.

“ Jesus Christ.”

Cas yanked at the top of Dean's jeans. “Focus, Dean. Pants off.”

“ Yeah,” Dean breathed as he shed his pants and boxes as fast as humanly possible. “Pants.” He kicked them away, grabbing Cas by the hand to lead him towards the shower. Once under the spray, he pushed Cas against the tiled wall.

“ God I missed you,” he murmured, placing small kisses along Cas' jawline, who tilted his head back, allowing Dean easier access to his neck. Dean kissed his way down, stooping to swipe his tongue across one of Cas' nipples, working the barbell back and forth lightly. Cas gasped, his head smacking against the shower wall. Dean smirked up at him, then pulled him over to the spray.

“ C'mon,” he said, pushing Cas' wet hair off his forehead. “Let me take care of you.”

At Cas' nod, Dean reached over, grabbing the bottle of shampoo and squirting some out into his palms. He ran his hands through Cas' hair, massaging his scalp until it was sudsy. Cas closed his eyes, tipping his head back under the water, and Dean reached for his bath soap, pouring it out into his hands and rubbed them together. Forgoing a washcloth, he ran his soapy hands over Cas' chest, down his stomach, and when he reached Cas' cock, he found it half-hard. Dean wrapped his hand around it, stroking it from tip to base. Cas' hand slapped against the wall and he groaned, “Dean,  _fuck_ ...”

Dean quickly finished washing and rinsing the rest of Cas' body, ready to have him spread out on the bed. Cas dug his heels in slightly when Dean started to drag him out of the bathroom.

“ Towel?” Cas asked him.

“ Fuck the towel.” Dean's voice was low and rough, his entire body vibrated with the need to have Cas under him.

“ I'll get the bed wet,” Cas protested weakly.

“ I don't give a fuck,” Dean growled, pulling Cas the rest of the way into the bedroom, then pushing him onto the bed.

Cas hit the bed with an  _'oof'_ and Dean crawled up his body, hovering over him. When his own cock brushed against Cas', it took everything within him to not just fuck Cas into the mattress right there. Dean breathed out harshly and kept moving. When his face was finally level with Cas', Dean kissed him softly, then nibbled at his bottom lip. “I have you naked and I plan to explore every inch.”

Cas audibly swallowed. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Ok.”

Dean ran his tongue along the scar across Cas' collarbone, kissed his way to Cas' chest, where he spent a leisurely amount of time with Cas' nipples. One he flicked and played with using his tongue, the other he used his fingers, lighting rolling it between his fingers and sliding the barbell back and forth, until Cas was clutching at the bedsheets, his breath coming in stilted gasps. Dean gave his nipple a final lick and then began to work his way down, kissing each scar he came across, sucking small marks into smooth flesh until he was kneeling between Cas' legs.

He ran his fingertips over Cas' right thigh, tracing over the swirling patterns of color inked into his skin. It looked like an abstract watercolor, splashing down his leg and knee to then blend and transform into a large wave, flowing down and around his shin to his ankle, small drops of color on the top of his foot, as if paint had been dripped there. Within the wave was a large koi in the same style. It was like nothing Dean had ever seen before. Nothing like a traditional type tattoo, his leg more like a painting than something inked into the skin.

Cas' left leg was the complete opposite. The top of his thigh was a huge Mandala that wrapped almost all the way around to the back of his leg. Thick black bands curled around his kneecap and down his shin, on which a large black and gray cameo resided. The inside was a portrait of a young woman with the name “Rachel” in flowing script beneath. At the top and bottom of the cameo were bright red roses. Amongst all of Cas' tattoos where scars of varying length, some smooth, some rough and puckered, none of them marring the beauty of his body.

Dean slid his hands up Cas' thighs, his own body following the movements until he reached Cas's erection, bowing as if in worship. He dragged his tongue up the shaft, wrapping his lips around the head when he reached the top, sucking lightly and flicking at the barbell there. The sound that fell from Cas' mouth made his own cock throb in response and he groaned, taking Cas' deep, the barbell tracing along the roof of his mouth. Bobbing his head, he sucked Castiel slowly, swirling his tongue when he reached the head before sinking back down, filling his mouth. His eyes flicked up to Castiel's face, who had pushed up on his elbows, watching Dean, teeth digging into his bottom lip. When Dean reached the tip again, he pulled off with a loud smack, tugging at the barbell with his teeth. Castiel's tongue swiped over his lips as he gasped out, “ _oh fuck_ ,” and his hips bucked, a large bead of precome oozing out of the tip. Dean lapped at it, spreading it over the head and down the shaft until Cas' cock was slick. He wrapped his hand around the hard flesh, jacking Cas as he licked and sucked at the tip, mouthed and nipped at his balls, running his tongue down to lick at his hole before starting all over. Dean wanted Cas, wanted his mouth on him everywhere, wanted Cas needy and desperate, the way Dean felt right now.

Castiel clutched at Dean's hands. “Please, Dean  _please_ . I want you--” He broke off with a groan as Dean swallowed him down, head brushing against the back of Dean's throat. Dean slid his mouth up, pulling off long enough to gasp out, “bedside table drawer”, then dragged his tongue along the underside of Cas' dick, grabbing him by the hips to pull him back when Cas slid over to fumble with the drawer handle.

“ _Dean_ ...” Castiel whined and Dean let him go, huffing a laugh when the bottle of lube smacked against his chest. Dean popped the cap, drizzling it onto his cock and fingers. He stroked himself, hand slipping along his length while he slid a finger between Cas' ass cheeks, circling his hole slowly before pushing it in. Dean worked his finger in and out, going deeper with each pass, then slipped in a second finger in, encouraging Cas as he writhed on the bed.

“ Yeah, Cas, there you go. Open up for me.” He pushed a third finger in, stretching Cas open, groaning when Cas' hips came up off the bed as Dean stroked his prostate. “ _Fuck_ , that feel good baby?” Dean rubbed against it again, his own cock throbbing at the sight of precome oozing out the head of Cas' dick.

“ Dean,” Cas panted, hands fisting into the comforter. “I swear to god, if you--”

“ Eager, I like that.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, then removed his fingers, moving to hover over Cas' body and kiss him lightly. “Don't pout.” Dean nibbled at Cas' bottom lip. “I'm about to make you feel really,  _really_ good.” He positioned himself between Cas' legs, sliding his hands along the back of Cas' thighs, pushing at his knees until they were against his chest. Nudging the head of his cock at Cas' entrance, he slid past that tight ring of muscle and they groaned together

~*~

“You're going to be the death of me, Cas,” Dean muttered into the pillow. He felt boneless, weightless...he felt  _happy_ .

“ Not a bad way to go though, huh?”

Dean rolled over and pressed himself against Cas' sweaty body, capturing his lips in a kiss. Cas hummed appreciatively, sliding his tongue into Dean's mouth, fingernails scraping against his scalp.

“ No not at all,” Dean replied, laying his head on Cas' chest. “And you know, now that my brain is working again, I'm kinda mad at you.”

“ Um...why?”

Dean pushed up on one elbow. “You hiding this work of art from me for all this time,” he said, sweeping a hand up and down Cas' body. “Very cruel, Cas.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You're insane.”

Dean shuffled around to sit back against the headboard. Crossing his arms, he turned his head away. “I'm not and that's insulting.”

“ Dean--”

Dean held a hand out. “No more. You just have to stay here forever now and be naked all the time to make it up to me.”

“ I could do that.”

“ What? Be naked all the time?” Dean laughed.

“ No. Stay here forever.”

Dean's head whipped around and he winced when his neck popped. “What?” Surely he didn't hear what he thought he heard, what with the blood roaring in his ears. “Cas, what?”

Cas shrugged. “Well I'd invite you to move in with me, but my apartment is kind of small. And nowhere near as nice as your house. Though we'd have to replace that couch, Dean.” He looked up and smiled. “It really is sad.”

Dean shook his head, incredulous. “Cas, shut up and kiss me.”

~*~

Cas never told him the entire story of his visit with Gabriel and Dean completely understood his need to keep some things to himself. But what he did share...well Dean could have driven to Illinois just to kiss Cas' brother.

“ He told me that he never blamed me for what happened. That he'd do it over and over again...as many times as he had to. That he never held a single regret about what he did. And he told me, Dean, to let it all go. To stop being stuck in this rut. To find my wings and jump.” He had turned his eyes to Dean then, shiny with unshed tears. “And if you're willing, I want you to jump with me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I had been thinking about the past few weeks. I like the idea of Castiel with tattoos and have been seeing some fan art of such.


End file.
